


Small Changes

by TheMightyFlynn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 15:42:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11763069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMightyFlynn/pseuds/TheMightyFlynn
Summary: They were only small changes, but Blaise noticed every little difference in Draco and Potter’s behaviour.





	Small Changes

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2017 [hd_cliche](http://hd-cliche.livejournal.com/) fest for the prompts: "eighth-year" and "dorm sex".

Blaise was bored. Not the kind of fleeting boredom that came from having a few hours with nothing to do, but the kind that weighed his limbs, numbed his brain, and dulled his senses. Sitting at the very end of the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, he stared around at all those who had returned to the school after the construction had finished.

Very few of his own year had decided to come back and finish their disastrous seventh year. Not that Blaise blamed them, because the previous year had been… Well. Shaking his head, he forcibly changed the direction of his thoughts. What he needed was something to distract him; a juicy bit of gossip, or maybe even…

“Bite me, Malfoy.”

“Oh, it would be my absolute _pleasure_ , Potter.”

…a hint of scandal? Potter’s voice – which had come from behind Blaise – was pitched normally, so that anyone who happened to be listening in would have heard him. Draco’s, on the other hand, was quieter and slightly muffled, almost as though muttered into his collar.

“Such eloquence, Potter,” Draco continued in a more normal tone. “Not that I would expect any less from the likes of you.”

Draco materialised at Blaise’s left elbow, glaring down at the group of third-years seated across from him until they scuttled off to the opposite end of the table. Blaise kept an eye on Potter as he marched off towards the Gryffindor table, however. There was something different about him; a change that was somewhat indefinable. Where he had been gawky and slightly awkward all through the rest of their school years, there was now a quiet confidence about him. Not only had he grown physically since the end of the war, but there was also an appealing maturity about him. He looked… Well, _content_ is how Blaise would have described it. It was a definite change from the boy who had been so highly strung for all those years, and Blaise somehow knew that it had nothing to do with his actions during the war.

A trickle of suspicion made its way down Blaise’s spine as Draco settled himself on the bench across from him. Draco and Potter had made amends after the Death Eater trials; sort of. Potter had testified for Draco and Lucius at their trials, rescuing them from stints in Azkaban and, when he had been returning Draco’s wand, had offered him his hand. The so-called truce hadn’t lasted beyond the first day of school, when the two had started bickering like two old ladies again.

Or had they?

Blaise eyed Draco for a few seconds before Draco heaved a frustrated-sounding sigh.

“ _What_ are you staring at, Blaise?”

There were spots of colour high on Draco’s cheeks and his eyes were bright. It gave him a ‘just fucked’ look, especially with his lips as pink as they currently were… But no. Blaise shook the thought from his mind. No doubt he was being ridiculous. Draco and Potter would never; _could_ never… Blaise cleared his throat.

“I see that you are taking your promise to try to get along with Potter seriously.”

It was fascinating to watch the play of emotion over Draco’s face. His cheeks tinted an even deeper shade of pink as he lowered his eyes to the range of breakfast foods spread before them, completely ignoring Blaise’s comment.

“When is your free period today?”

“Draco.”

“Today isn’t the day ours match up, is it?”

“Draco.”

“You know–”

“ _Draco_!”

Draco sighed. “What do you expect me to say, Blaise? That he and I have never and will never get along? That all I could manage to promise myself was that I will try not to antagonise him as much as I did in previous years? That I am apparently doomed to repeat my past actions over and over, no matter the poor consequences they have?”

The little speech was so much like the Draco Blaise had known for half his life that he could almost believe that it was the truth. _Almost_. The words were similar to Draco’s previous rants, but they lacked the same kind of heat. There had always been a venom to Draco’s voice when he spoke about Potter, but that had completely disappeared. The lack caused the suspicion to trail along Blaise’s spine again, but he pushed it aside to keep the peace.

“Alright, alright, fine. I’ll drop it.”

Blaise nearly rolled his eyes when Draco inclined his head regally. Breakfast was continued in silence. It was strange to not have Pansy there, babbling on with complete bullshit, but the silence did give Blaise a chance to contemplate all the changes in Draco’s behaviour since the start of the school term.

The threats to inform Lucius of anything and everything that happened to him had ceased, but that was only to be expected, Blaise figured. Lucius had lost most, if not all, of his influence with high-ranking members of London’s wizarding society after the war. That wasn’t the only thing different about Draco, however. His sexual orientation had been an open secret in the Slytherin dorms for the past five years, but he was no longer hiding it from the world at large. Blaise was sure the news that the only Malfoy heir was gay would have caused an uproar in the papers if the remaining Death Eater trials had not still been ongoing. Overall, Draco just seemed much more… relaxed. He had calmed down a lot from the boy who had reacted immediately to everything that Potter did or said, and now almost seemed to be just ignoring everything about Potter. It was such a stark difference that it stood out to Blaise more than any of the other changes that had occurred since the end of the war. When his mind made the connection between the changes in Draco’s behaviour and the changes to Potter’s, he was unable to keep his mouth shut.

“Draco, I–”

“Look, Blaise, if all you are going to do is lecture me, then just forget it,” Draco interrupted, the colour returning to his cheeks. “Drop whatever it is you are thinking about Potter. I’m sick of being scrutinised, alright?” Pushing back from the table, Draco scowled down at him. “If all you can think of is how I get along with Potter, then maybe it’s time you start focussing more on yourself. Maybe you need a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend. I’m sure Weasley would be up for a tumble, if your tastes run to redheads.”

With that, Draco snatched one last piece of toast from the table, spun on his heel, and marched out of the Great Hall. Blaise sat blinking after him, shock holding him in place. It was rare for Draco to lose his temper with him, even if he lost it with others on a regular basis. When the shock started to clear, his mind focussed sharply on the most ridiculous question: _which Weasley does he mean?_

*~*

Herbology was the first lesson of the day, which the Slytherins shared with the Gryffindors. Blaise hung back a bit from the rest of the crowd, merely watching everyone interact. While the eighth-years had been given their own tower to use as a dormitory, they shared their lessons with the current batch of seventh-years. It made the classes larger than normal, but this didn’t bother Blaise. It was actually refreshing to have different minds and different opinions in the classrooms, even if it meant that he had to fight harder for his grade than in past years. It was as he was people-watching that he noticed the second strange thing about Draco that morning.

Standing just off to Blaise’s right, Draco scowled at everyone who approached him. This wasn’t so strange as to have drawn Blaise’s attention, as Draco had always been stand-offish with those he considered beneath his notice. What drew Blaise’s attention was Draco’s reaction when Potter and both Weasleys – Blaise determinedly ignored the intruding memory of Draco’s words during breakfast at the sight of them – moved to stand just in front of him. There was no stiffening of Draco’s posture this time; no increase to his scowl. Instead, it seemed almost as though he relaxed a little. Blaise could have sworn that he saw Draco’s gaze drop towards Potter’s arse, but was unable to see his face properly from the angle at which they both stood.

“Alright, class! In you come!”

Blaise jumped at the sound of Professor Sprout’s voice. Her sudden appearance broke his concentration and seemed to startle Draco enough that he snapped back into his regular routine of behaviour: his back stiffened, his lip curled, and he shoved Potter with his shoulder as he moved past the group. Both Weasleys reacted as per usual, and their insults followed Draco into the greenhouse. Potter, on the other hand, stood back, just shaking his head and trying to stop the other two from continuing on. It _could_ have been taken as Potter sticking to the resolution both he and Draco had made of trying to get along better that year, but… Blaise shook his head again. Perhaps Draco was right. Being this focussed on someone else’s sex life – real or imagined – could not be healthy. He followed the rest of the class into the greenhouse silently.

Unfortunately for Blaise, the lesson proved to be one that he had actually managed to finish completely the year before. He had been one of the few that the Death Eaters had left alone, due to his pure-blood status, meaning that he had a bit of a jumpstart on a lot of the others when it came to certain parts of the lessons. While he tried to keep his mind on the lesson, he was incapable of keeping it from wandering off to his previous train of thought. When he found himself watching Draco yet again halfway through the lesson, he simply gave up and allowed his thoughts free rein.

_What if_ Draco and Potter were getting along a lot better than they were letting on? Would it change anything? Blaise knew it would, but the question he had was _how_?

“Keep your attention on your own work, please, Mr. Malfoy.”

Blaise glanced up just in time to see a blush staining Draco’s cheeks. A quick look around gave him a glimpse of Potter smirking as he worked on his own Angel’s Trumpet flower. Both Weasleys as well as Granger stood off to Potter’s right, all looking warily in Draco’s direction. Probably a sensible reaction, Blaise figured, as one never knew what Draco could have been capable of before the war. But it was the ‘before the war’ part of that sentence that was important, wasn’t it? Whether Draco was capable of using a plant like Angel’s Trumpet against Potter – or any one of Potter’s associates – these days was completely open to debate. At least, it was to Blaise.

Further observation of Draco during the lesson only added to Blaise’s suspicions. When Draco would have normally taken advantage of several moments during the lesson when Sprout was distracted to intimidate the younger students, or to antagonise Potter and his lot, he stood silent. There were a few moments when Draco and Potter exchanged words, but they were too quiet for Blaise to make out, and seemed to again lack the kind of heat that their exchanges usually held. It was all highly suspicious, but nothing solid enough for Blaise to form a true opinion on the matter.

“Out of my way, Potter.”

“Shove off, Malfoy.”

The end of the lesson signalled yet another performance from the two of them. This time, however, there was a sense of anticipation that seemed to have built. The words were the same that they had been shooting at each other for the past eight years, but they still lacked the kind of heat Blaise was so used to seeing from them. He watched Draco until he was out of sight, still trying to figure out whether he was imagining things, or whether he had been the only one in their year to notice anything different.

*~*

Blaise decided to just skip lunch that day. Draco had been ignoring him since their little spat in the Great Hall that morning and Blaise wasn’t in the mood to have to interact with anyone else. With the direction his thoughts had been taking since that morning, he figured that it was probably best that he spend some time alone. Having the solitude to work things out on his own would be easier than attempting to sort through everything he had apparently discovered in the noise and bustle of the Great Hall. Trudging up through the castle to the eighth-year dorm, he tried to force his thoughts to something more relaxing than whether his best friend was having it off with Harry Potter.

Muggle Studies. That was what he would focus on. It was bland and he was certain that he would never need to know any of it, but he had needed a throwaway class and hadn’t been interested in Ancient Runes. His test at the end of the year seemed like it would be easy enough to breeze through on his own, but there was always the possibility of charming one of the half-blood witches into helping him hone some of the points that he was lagging behind in.

With his mind so occupied, he missed the fact that the door to the dorm that he shared with four of the others in his year – there were no House groups here, as they were so few – was cracked slightly open. He also missed the sounds coming from within until it was too late. Pushing the door open silently, Blaise stood frozen in the doorway.

Potter was sprawled on his back on the bed to Blaise’s right, his legs bent at such an acute angle that his knees touched his chest with each deep thrust. His head was thrown back against the stark white pillows, and his hands were clenched in the sheet beneath him. On top of him lay Draco, his muscles straining as he moved. The room was stuffy; the air reeked of sweat and the musk of sex. Blaise couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“D-Draco…”

One of Potter’s hands unclenched from the sheet and moved. Blaise couldn’t see from his angle, but it was clear by the movement of Potter’s arm that he was touching himself. A jolt of need shot through Blaise, but it was still his only reaction.

“Can’t last,” Draco panted in response, causing strange things to happen in Blaise’s stomach. “Gonna… Gotta…”

“Wait, wait… Nearly…”

Draco’s movements were getting erratic. Blaise placed the palm of his hand over his crotch, pressing on the hardness he found there. When Potter’s legs unlocked from their position behind Draco’s back in order to press his heels into Draco’s thighs, Blaise bit down on his lip. He could almost _feel_ the pressure of those heels on his own thighs.

“Harry.”

The name was almost a benediction on Draco’s lips, whispered as it was. Blaise pressed down hard against his own erection as he watched Draco come deep inside Potter. He didn’t stay to discover whether Potter found the release he had been reaching for. Afraid that he was about to come in his own pants, he slipped back out the door, shutting it silently behind him. Panting harshly in an attempt to get his racing heart under control, Blaise leant back against the cool stone of the corridor.

“Zabini?”

Blaise’s heart began to race double-time at the sound of Ron Weasley’s voice. He clenched his hands and stood straight, determined that he would not be embarrassed at being discovered in the state he was currently in.

“What are you–”

Weasley cut himself off as his eyes travelled down Blaise’s body. They stopped short at the tenting in Blaise’s expensive woollen trousers. Draco’s words from earlier in the morning echoed back to Blaise when he could sense no mocking in the small smile that formed on Weasley’s lips. Perhaps Draco _had_ been right; perhaps it was time Blaise got himself a boyfriend. Clearing his throat caught Weasley’s attention.

“Let me show you.”


End file.
